Kickstands and Adrenaline Rushes
by FlyingNymphLady
Summary: Scott McCall wasn't preparing to run into god-like perfection Derek Hale but he ended up doing so and even found out they had the same passion for bikes. The problem is Derek's bikes been stolen and Scott knows who did it all too well. (Characters will be possibly added as the storyline progresses) Motorcycle/Human AU


A/N: I guess a good fun fact to start off with is that I have absolutely no idea which motorcycles are what so ya know, I'm sorta winging it with some research so anyone who knows something more about them hit me up and educate me!

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or any associated characters. This is a work of pure fiction.

Summary: Scott McCall wasn't preparing to run into god-like perfection Derek Hale but he ended up doing so and even found out they had the same passion for bikes. The problem is Derek's bikes been stolen and Scott knows who did it all too well.

Kickstands and Adrenaline Rushes by FlyingNymphLady

For Becca, a beyond wonderful person who showed me the wonders of this ship (✿◠‿◠)

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Chapter One

"Hey man I said I wasn't interested," Scott says shoving back a drunk admirerer who's been getting handsy. The man stumbles a little ways but is back on Scott before he can do anything. Scott prepares to shove the guy away again, and possibly deck him, but suddenly the weight isn't there anymore. Looking around Scott eyes lock in on a grizzly looking man who's got his "admirerer" pinned against a nearby wall.

"Again Ethan? You're a drunken idiot. Get out of here before I throw you out," the man pinning the "admirerer", Ethan, grits out. Pulling Ethan to him the man shoves him toward the door, watching until he's gone.

Waiting to see what the man'll do, Scott's hardly surprised when he comes to sit at the bar. There's a seat between them but Scott isn't deterred by it.

"Hey I'm Scott," he says reaching out a hand.

The grizzly looking man turns his gaze to Scott and suddenly he transforms into a pure charmer with the simple upturn of his lips. Taking Scott's hand he gives it a firm shake, "Derek. You're the guy Ethan was harassing right? He can be an ass sometimes, good kid all and all though."

"Yeah I was flattered but I just wasn't interested. Some guys don't take no too well ya know? I guess that's just the risk you take liking guys, extremes whether they want you or not," Scott theorized as he ordered a refill and one of whatever Derek wanted.

"You don't have to buy me a drink for what I did..." Derek mutters, looking almost embarrassed by the gesture.

"Consider it my attempt to flirt with you," Scott smiled and then suddenly faltered when he realized Derek might not be interested, "I mean, if you're into that, if you even like dudes. I should've-"

Derek's hand lands on Scott's as he interjects, "I'd love to receive that drink,"

"Good," Scott sighs with relief as Derek orders. So he hadn't misread things completely. Waiting politely for Derek to receive his chosen poison Scott fidgets in his seat, wondering exactly what he should say. When he'd gone out tonight he hadn't been expecting to be hitting on anyone, certainly not someone this hot. Looking Derek up and down Scott's eyes hone in on motorcycle grease on his pant leg. Motorcycles happened to be a passion for Scott and if his tall, dark stranger had one... Well he might just be hooked.

"So, do you ride?" Scott asks tapping the top of his own helmet, his voice eager.

Derek glances down into his lap where Scott was looking and realizes he looks a bit like a grease monkey. Chuckling he makes note of the boy's keen observation skills, "Look the part do I? Yeah, I've got one out back. Had some trouble getting here though."

"You strike me as a guy who can handle things," Scott comments, his brows coming together in a suggestive nature to better emphasize the innuendo. He may not have flirted in a while but with Derek it was almost effortless, he doesn't even feel like he was forcing himself to try. It's just happening naturally.

"You could say that," Derek chuckles before taking a long drink of his Sam Adams which has finally arrived, the runoff making it's way through the maze that is his scruffy beard. Scott blinks vigorously when he realizes he's been staring for much too long, turning to his own drink before he can be caught blushing like a lovestruck teen. He knew instant attraction was possible but his lack of control was startling, he hasn't felt this way in a long while.

"Do you, wanna get outta here and you know... See who's faster?" Scott motioned to the door, feeling lucky and impulsive.

"Why not?" Derek said throwing Scott another spellbinding smile. Scott hastily paid their bill and followed Derek through the crowded bar, feeling pretty damn badass with himself. Wandering into the parking lot Derek spun on his heel and faced Scott as they continued walking to the bike section.

"I think you'll like my girl, she's the best bike I've owned," Scott said proudly.

"MV Agusta?"

"Better," Scott grinned in excitement.

"I don't wanna tell too much about my girl but I think you'll really like..." Derek's voice trailed off as he turned to face an empty parking space. Looking up and down the row his brows furrowed and he crouched in the parking space picking up a cut wire. "Someone stole it."

"Wha- Are you sure?' Scott asked in surprise.

"Yeah," Derek growled, "I've seen this before, fucking hijackers."

"Are you gonna call it in?" Scott wondered, his phone already in hand in case Derek needed to borrow one but Derek shook his head and stood again.

"No. Whoever took it, they're good at what they do, they're long gone. I'll call it in in the morning when I get to work... Fuck." Derek muttered as his brain reminded him he didn't have a way to get anywhere easily.

Scott, still feeling impulsive, raised his helmet suggestively and nodded to his own bike, "I can give you a ride if you want, even a place to crash tonight."

Derek looked Scott up and down for a few moments, debating where or not to take him up on his offer. Sighing as he finalized his decision Derek nodded and gave Scott a dampened smile, clearly trying to remake his charming one earlier from memory alone, "Thanks."

The drive to Scott's place was short but seemed unbearably long. Derek rode behind him, pure muscle wrapped around his stomach as Derek held on. Scott had never been more distracted as he raced with traffic, weaving in and out of lanes as they flew. He could feel Derek flush against him, muscle rolling in time with his own as he drove, both clearly skilled on the back of a bike. Pulling into the underground parking complex Scott eased into his space, giving his bike an appreciative pat. Derek chuckled at his sentiments but unwound himself from Scott and dismounted with ease.

"You were right, she's a real imp," Derek grinned at Scott as he complimented the driver's pride and joy. Scott smiled sheepishly as he responded with his thanks; Derek caught the hint of a blush on his cheeks. Nodding toward the elevator Scott lead them through doors, pushing the fourth floor.

"Don't mind the mess," Scott implored as he unlocked the door to his apartment, inviting him in with a sweeping hand, "I wasn't expecting company tonight."

"It's fine, I've seen much worse," Derek reassured him as he surveyed the moderately clean living/dining room and kitchen. Scott slipped by him and gathered the empty wrappers and beer bottles scattered across the couch.

"You can set your stuff on the table and uh, you can have the couch or the bed... Whatever'll make you comfortable," Scott offered, his hosting skills rusty but his hospitality as good as ever.

"Couch'll be great," Derek replied as he stripped out of his leather jacket. Scott nodded and went to grab a set of blankets for Derek to sleep with.

Opening the the closet door Scott found himself staring at the sheets, unmoving. He had just brought a guy back to his place, a really hot guy, and he was letting said hot guy sleep on his couch for the night because his bike, oh that's right the guy also loved motorcycles, had been stolen. Taking a moment to come to terms with it all, Scott breathed in deeply and grabbed a set of clean sheets.

"I hope these'll be okay..." Scott trailed off as he watched Derek's back muscles ripple as he pulled his shirt off. Scott noted a large triple-spiral that rolled with his muscles, the tattoo seemed fairly old but excellently maintained. Scott shook himself as Derek turned to face him.

"Thanks, I hope you don't mind," Derek said holding up the faded Henley, "I didn't want it to rumple."

"No problem," Scott assured as he handed over the sheets. "Those should hold you over, if you need the bathroom it's down the hall to the right. For anything else my room's on the left."

"Scott," Derek called as he turned to go. Scott looked back expectantly, "In the morning..."

"I'll drive you wherever you need to go," Scott smiled simply. Derek breathed gratefully, clearly not used to asking for favors, "Night."

"Night," Derek echoed as Scott disappeared down the hall to his own room.

Waiting nearly forty minutes Scott finally felt comfortable enough to roll out of bed. Slipping on his sneakers, which he'd kept by his bedside in preparation, Scott wandered into the living room in silence. Scott froze as he passed by Derek's sleeping form, fearing he'd woken him. Listening for a few minutes Scott concluded Derek had simply shifted in his sleep and proceeded to make his way to the door. The locks fell away without protest as though they could sense Scott's need for silence.

It wasn't until Scott was in the elevator that he let himself breath again. Taking out his phone he hit his speed dial and hit one. The phone only rang twice before someone answered.

"Stiles speaking, what can I do for you?"

"You can give me the bike you stole from the parking lot tonight," Scott said plainly.

"What bike?" Stiles asked, his voice conjuring forth Stiles' innocent face in Scott's mind even over the phone.

"You know which one. That bar's your favorite hunting ground," Scott exasperated. By now he was on the sidewalk and well on his way to Stiles' garage, occasionally looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn't being followed.

"Doesn't mean someone else couldn't have taken it," Stiles grumbled, a pout growing on his lips Scott was certain, "But you're right it was me. Have Ennis let you in when you get here."

"I already did," Scott smirked, standing behind his friend. He'd apways prided himself on his speed and stealth, especially when it came to getting to the garage.

"Jesus Christ dude!" Stiles yelled, jumping and dropping his phone. Scott caught it easily and smiled as he handed it back to a mildly irritated mechanic, "If you're gonna do that shit make use of it and go steal your own bikes."

"You know I do this as a hobby only these days," Scott sighed. He and Stiles had been youthful teens when they'd started hijacking cars and motorcycles and they'd been good at it, both with no records attached to their names. Stiles had chosen to make this his profession while Scott had gone onto become a golden hearted second grade teacher for Spanish speaking kids; vastly different paths but steadfast brothers none the less, "And besides, this one isn't for me. You took this hot guy's bike at the bar and I felt obligated to return it to him."

"Hot guy?" Stiles perked up, eager to learn about this man who had managed to peak his brother's interest, "You got a picture of this bike to show me?"

"Maybe," Scott said holding up Derek's phone which he'd borrowed when they were in the elevator. Stiles raised his brows in surprise and Scott punched him in the arm, tilting the screen to see the unlock pattern. Beautifully laid out for him Scott slipped passed the security with ease, "Ha, that's right Stilinski, you're not the only one who's learned how to liberate things."

Opening Derek's photos it didn't take Scott long to locate the folder labeled Marina, cute name for the bike Scott thought. Stiles leaned in to look at the screen, nodding his head.

"You're right he is hot," Stiles agreed, earning another punch in the arm, "Oh right, yeah that's the bike I took from the bar but you might have a problem returning it to him tonight..."

"Stiles," Scott warned, following his friend through the chopped up car parts as the freckled mechanic led him to the bike he was hunting for, "Why do I feel like... Jesus man, you guys already chopped it!"

Stiles rubbed the back of his neck guilty the way his father did when he was giving someone bad news, "Duke needed a rush order ASAP, the parts are already on their way to Arkansas."

"Alright," Scott said running a hand over his mouth and calculating what to do about the pieces of Derek's bike, "Can you replace the pieces you took off?"

"I can do that," Stiles brightened a little, his business stance quickly overtaking it as he began calculating in his mind, "It's gonna take time though, some of those pieces weren't exactly common."

Scott groaned, of course Stiles had taken the best parts of the bike to sell, "And how long's that gonna take?"

"Given my talent and sizable connections I'd say three days," Stiles estimated on his nimble fingers, "A week tops."

"Alright, alright," Scott sighed, coming to terms with the extensive project he was undertaking. It wasn't an exceptional amount of time but it was longer than Scott wanted to hear, "Derek's lucky he's damn cute. I wouldn't even be considering all this if he hadn't chased off this guy who was hitting on me."

"Your own knight in shining armor," Stiles teased, throwing an arm around Scott's shoulder as they walked to the door, "He's lucky you've got a brother who loves you."

"Yeah, yeah," Scott rolled his eyes as he grabbed onto Stiles's grease monkey top. Reaching the end of the room's length Scott turned to face Stiles; the two embraced each other with an arm thrown over the other's back, "Don't get caught yeah?"

"Never do man," Stiles chuckled, his breath tickling the back of Scott's neck. It was the traditional parting words passed between them but honestly Scott didn't know what he would do if Stiles was caught. His mind drew a blank whenever he tried imaging explaining things to Stiles' father (a sheriff of the law) or telling his mother who'd raised Stiles as her own. The idea of telling them their son was a criminal just wasn't something he'd ever be able to do. It was part of the reason he'd quit the business once the teenage thrill of it had worn off. Ennis nodded farewell to him as Scott exited the building with a nod of his own.

The walk home was filled with the wild calls of the night, hustlers looking for a buck and couples out on the town to have a good time. Scott made his way down the street with ease this time, not feeling the agitation he did when he made his way down to the shop. It had been a long time since he'd walked to that place without the feeling crawling down his spine. Now relief flooded through him as he stepped into the elevator doors, safely disconnected from the fear of being seen. Once inside his apartment Scott paused beside Derek's coat to slip the phone back in it before heading off to bed no one the wiser of his adventure.

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-TBC-

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**Reviews Appreciated **


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